


Distraction

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mild S&M, Police, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock Holmes is caught up in the raid of an S&M club, Lestrade's curious as to what he was doing there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: [AvatarMN](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarMN)

The raid of the S&M club The Bathory House had been unproductive; they hadn’t found any illegal drugs, and while there had been things of a sexual nature going on, none of it really qualified as prostitution.

Detective Greg Inspector Lestrade was doing paperwork, grumbling about being at work all night for nothing, when Sergeant Sally Donovan walked up to him.

"There's someone who wants to speak to you, sir."

Lestrade stood, confused. "Oh?"

"Trust me, you're going to want to see this for yourself..."

Lestrade looked at the young woman with surprise, but sighed and followed her.

 

They walked to an interview room. Sitting there was Sherlock Holmes, a young man who'd shown up at some of his crime scenes. Holmes had taken a liking--if that was the right word--to Lestrade, probably because the Detective Inspector actually took him seriously, realising that he actually had incredible skills that often helped them solve cases.

Holmes was sitting on the far side of the table, looking annoyed. He was topless, his white shirt sitting folded on the table.

"Lestrade!" said the man with annoyance. "May I go know? I've not committed any crimes, nor has anyone committed one against me."

"What are you even doing here?"

"He was caught up in the raid of The Bathory House," Donovan informed him.

He looked at her, then at Holmes, who was glaring at her. 

"You know, your boss frowns on workplace romance," Holmes informed her. 

Donovan gave Holmes a confused look and opened her mouth to say something.

"Thank you, Donovan," Lestrade said, nodding for her to leave. She shook her head but cleared out without saying anything.

Lestrade nodded to Holmes. "You can put your shirt on."

"I'd rather not," Holmes replied. "That shirt cost me almost 200 quid, I don't want to get blood on it."

"Blood...?"

Holmes rolled his eyes and pointed to his back.

Lestrade walked around behind Holmes. There were wide red streaks across the man's back, probably made by a belt or strap. There were older wounds, too, made by what seemed to be the same implement.

"Oh God..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Lestrade."

"So you go to this place for ... its intended purpose?"

"Ah, you thought I was there for a case. No, not this time. That's how I first found out about it, but since then I've gone a few times for..." Holmes smirked. "...it's intended purpose."

Lestrade chuckled. "You know, if I had known this was how you get off, I would have let some of my constables rough you up like they've wanted to..."

Sherlock turned, giving Lestrade a puzzled look. "Get off...?" Then realisation dawned and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, God, why is everyone so obsessed with sex?"

"Well, then why do you do it?"

"You wouldn’t understand," said Holmes.

Crossing his arms, Lestrade gave Holmes a defiant look. "Try me." 

After a pause, Holmes began to explain.

"About five years ago, I broke my hand. I'm not sure if you've ever broken a bone, but it was... excruciating." Sherlock sighed. "It wasn't the pain, Lestrade. I'm not a _masochist_. But ... but before the hospital, and the pain meds, there were moments then the pain was so intense, so ... overwhelming, that I couldn’t think. Do you get that, Lestrade? I couldn't _think_."

"You like being not able to think?"

"My mind rebels at stagnation. When I'm on a case, when I have work, when I have something to do, I can cope; I'm ... happy. But day-to-day life, dealing with the mundane tasks that people are expected to do every day ... it's _intolerable_ , my brain ... it's like an engine, racing out of control; a rocket tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad."

Lestrade nodded. "So ... you let yourself be flogged because the pain makes you stop thinking?"

"Exactly."

Lestrade sat down across from Holmes. "You'll be careful, right? Make sure you're ... doing it safely, and take care of the wounds so they don't get infected or anything."

Holmes looked at Lestrade for a moment, then smiled. "I'd better. You lot can't solve cases without me."

"Oh, _that's_ nice! Here I am, trying to be nice to you, and you have to be a prick."

Holmes laughed and got to his feet.

"Call me the next time you need me. I'm sure it'll be soon."

Lestrade laughed and shook his head as he watched Holmes leave.


End file.
